


While You Were Dancing

by Wise_Wayward



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aragorn Arwen Elrohir and Elladan are siblings, Archery, Ballet, Bard teaches English, Elrond is their father, Eomer is kind of a douche, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Haldir teaches archery, High School Drama, Legolas and Tauriel are siblings, Legolas is a ballet dancer, Legolorn, M/M, Modern Middle Earth, Slow Build, Soccer, and kind of a hipster, aralas - Freeform, cute dates, i'll add as i go - Freeform, track
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wise_Wayward/pseuds/Wise_Wayward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn's senior year of highschool takes a turn for the better when a new student arrives. Legolas is smart, kind, beautiful...and he dances. Teenage drama ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At a Glance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!! So, a while ago I was browsing the Aralas tag on Tumblr and came across a post of someone wanting a modern ballerina Legolas. All sort of ideas came to mind and voila - I wrote this! So, random Tumblr user, I don't remember your url but if you come across this, this is for you! Also, there is a serious lack of Modern LOTR AUs! I'll try to remedy that! Anyway, hope you enjoy!!

“Aragorn! Get up!”

Aragorn shot up, startled awake by the pounding on his door. _Shit, am I late?_ Groaning, he blindly reached for the cell on his night stand to check the time. _7:30 am_. With a relieved sigh, he fell back onto his lumpy pillow and wiped the sleep from his tired eyes.

“Aragorn!”

Reluctantly, he threw back the covers and swung his legs off the mattress. He hissed as his bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor and wished for nothing more than to return to the comfortable warmth of his bed. Honestly, the hardest part about going to school was getting up – he was _not_ a morning person. (The rest of his family could attest to that.) Thankfully, the weekend was just two days away and then he would be free to sleep in as late as he pleased. The pounding on his door resumed.

 “Ok! I’m up!” he yelled, the banging ceased right before he wrenched the door open.

His younger sister stood on the other side. Her long, dark hair was in disarray and she still wore her floral print night gown and fuzzy, pink slippers. Though three years his junior, she was nearly his height – a fact he greatly resented.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” she teased, already way too peppy for this early in the morning.

“Where’s dad?” he asked, ignoring her sickly sweet grin and running a hand through his own unruly hair.

“He got called in,” Arwen answered, propping a hip against the doorframe, “Emergency at the hospital apparently. So, looks like you’ll be taking us to school.”

_That was nothing new_.

Aragorn sighed before ruffling the girl’s hair who slapped his arm in retaliation.

“Alright, kid. Go get dressed and I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“I’m not a kid, Aragorn,” she argued, raising an unamused brow.

“You’ll always be my baby sister,” he taunted, “Get used to it.”

She slapped him again, this time with a little more force.

“Ow!” he protested, rubbing his stinging arm.

Smiling, she sauntered down the hall and into the bathroom where she’d most likely spend the next half hour getting ready. Fortunately, Aragorn took less time to make himself look presentable. Well, actually, he just cared less about how he looked. His family constantly teased him about being sloppy but he took it all in stride. There were more important things than appearance. At least, that’s what he told himself.

After brushing his hair and throwing on a clean pair of jeans and a navy v-neck, he headed down stairs and into the kitchen. The kitchen was one of his favorite rooms in the whole house. From the brick oven to the breakfast nook, to the pans and herbs hanging above the island, it just felt warm and inviting. It also helped that he liked to cook. With Elrond working most evenings and his older brothers away at university, it was Aragorn who was left to cook for himself and his sister – not that he minded. He felt proud knowing he could take care of himself (and his skill also helped him impress a date or two).

As he finished putting together two plates of scrambled eggs, buttered toast and orange slices, Arwen strode into the room. He looked her over then raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked in irritation.

“Aren’t those shorts a little short?”

“Aren’t those jeans a little old?” she countered.

Aragorn glanced down, taking in the frayed bottoms of his pants and the hole in his right knee.

“Touché.”

Arwen smirked and sat herself in the nook.

“You know, if you didn’t dress like a homeless person, you wouldn’t be single.”

_Not this again_. Teasing him about his lack of companion seemed to be a hobby of Arwen’s lately. 

“Maybe I like being single,” Aragorn said as he took a seat across from her and slid her plate over the table.

“Oh come on,” she said around a mouthful of toast, “surely someone has caught your attention? You’re a senior now! You could probably have anyone you wanted if you just tried!”

“Not interested,” he answered while stabbing at his eggs, then in an attempt to redirect the conversation, he asked, “Anyone caught yours?”

“No,” she pouted and Aragorn couldn’t help but chuckle at her obvious disappointment, though secretly he was relieved by the news, “But we’re supposed to be getting a new instructor at the studio today. Who knows? He might be hot.”

Aragorn nearly chocked on his glass of milk.

“Now hold on, _young_ lady,” he protested, “You’re fifteen. I’m pretty sure a relationship with your dance instructor would be illegal.”

“So?”

Aragorn paled.

Now it was Arwen’s turn to laugh at her flustered brother, “Relax, Aragorn! I wouldn’t do that! But it doesn’t mean I can’t look…”

“Good,” Aragorn replied, “I don’t want to kick any asses if it can be avoided.”

“Dear Lord, I dread the day I actually get a boyfriend. Between you, dad, and the twins, that poor guy won’t stand a chance!” she complained.

“Damn straight,” Aragorn grinned as he threw his sister a wink.

She glared in return and flung a piece of egg at his face.

“Hey!”

The girl laughed as she stood and placed her plate in the sink before heading into the foyer.

“Hurry up!” she called, “Or we’re going to be late!” 

* * *

 

The drive to school was hectic. After an accident had momentarily caused traffic to back up, Aragorn sped like crazy to make it to class on time. On more than one occasion, Arwen seriously feared for her life and wondered who the hell deemed it acceptable to give this man his license. She simply hugged her bag in her lap and closed her eyes while sending silent prayers that she live to see another day.

As he pulled into the closest available parking lot, both siblings dove out of the car and sprinted up the steps of The Gondor Academy of Academic Excellence. It was just as pretentious as it sounded. Mention to someone that you went to GA and you’d be met with an impressed stare and an inquiry into your career aspirations. Though considered an esteemed private school which lauded itself on the academic superiority of its students, most of the kids there only got in because their parents were rich. If you were the child of one of Gondor’s finest lawyers, doctors, politicians or local celebrities, you went to GA. Aragorn, however, got the best of both worlds. Yes, his father was wealthy and gladly paid his tuition, but he was also smart. His innate curiosity created an extraordinary work ethic. If something caught his attention, he had to know everything about it. He couldn’t tell you how many hours he frequented the library, becoming completely immersed in the texts whose topics occupied a vast range until he was satisfied that he knew all there was to know or he simply lost interest. As such, he was a great writer and a thorough listener – two skills that always earned him As and Bs on his work. His friends, for the most part, could care less. It was not that they weren’t intelligent, because they were! They simply lacked the motivation. Some did it out of spite towards their parents, some were just lazy, and others felt secured by the fact that they had an inheritance to look forward to after graduation. Most just did what they needed to in order to pass, and then put the rest of their attentions on sports and girls…or guys. Aragorn didn’t always approve of their choices, but he understood where they were coming from.

“Aragorn,” his sister’s voice broke through his thoughts, “I’m walking to the studio with a friend after school so don’t wait up for me.”

“Got’cha,” Aragorn answered as he turned down the hall leading to his English class, Arwen turning in the opposite direction.

“Bye!” his sister called from behind him, her voice cut off by the sound of a slamming locker.

He raised his hand in farewell but didn’t look back as he kept walking. The bell rang just as he slipped into the classroom and he was surprised (and fortunate) to find the teacher’s desk empty. His friends looked up as he made his way towards them and took the empty desk between Boromir and Eomer.

“Cutting it close, aren’t we?” Boromir greeted his normally punctual friend as he clapped him on the shoulder.

“Traffic,” he replied as he pulled out his notebook, “Where’s Mr. Bowman?”

“Don’t know,” answered Eomer who leaned back and propped his feet up on the on the desk in front of him, “If we’re lucky, he won’t show.”

Aragorn had known Boromir and Eomer for years. They’d went to the same school since they were thirteen and got along as soon as they met. Boromir’s father, Denethor, was currently the mayor of the city, a callous man who cared more about his paycheck than his people, but was tolerated nevertheless. Eomer’s uncle, Théoden, was a renowned lawyer who was in talks of running against Denethor in the upcoming election. Naturally, Denethor and Théoden despised one another and so naturally, Boromir and Eomer took great pleasure out of spending a lot of time together then preceding to tell their guardians all about it. Seems they got a kick out of “fraternizing with the enemy.” Like Aragorn, Boromir cared enough about his education to put in the effort, but was easily led astray. Eomer, on the other hand, was less academically inclined. Any motivation he possessed, he took to the soccer field, which is why he was dubbed the team’s star player - A title that certainly inflated his already large ego.

People were chatting idly as they waited for the teacher to show up. Aragorn was looking over his notes on _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_ when the class door swung open. Mr. Bowman walked in wearing his usual ensemble of khakis and a button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He pulled his glasses from his face and placed them atop his curly, dark hair. The chatting ceased as another figure followed Mr. Bowman into the room. Aragorn had never seen this person before and was curious to know who he was and why he was here. Appearance wise, the first thing he noticed was that the stranger was tall and slim. He wore a heather green beanie, strands of long blonde hair fell out around the front, framing a magnificently angular face. He had on a loose fitting tan t-shirt that showed off his clavicle and a pair of skinny jeans; his legs ending in a pair of brown combat boots. Aragorn got a glimpse of piercing blue eyes as the boy gazed shyly around the class before nervously grasping his satchel and turning to face Mr. Bowman.

“Good morning, class,” the teacher broke the silence, “I apologize for being tardy but I was escorting our new student to class. Everyone, this is Legolas and he just transferred here so I hope you’ll all do your best to make him feel welcomed. Legolas, you can take any empty seat.”

Legolas took a quick glance about the room before walking over to take the open seat directly across from Aragorn.  Eomer nudged him in the shoulder and waggled his eyebrows,

“I’ll make him feel welcome, alright,” he whispered, causing Aragorn to shake his head in half-hearted exasperation.

“Ok,” Mr. Bowman started, “Get out your books and let’s begin, shall we?”

Aragorn found himself half listening to the lecture. Instead, he studied, as covertly as possible, the new classmate in front of him. Aragorn could read people as well as he read books and he was determined to see what he could learn about the boy by just watching him. First, he noticed how Legolas sat straight in his seat, despite the shyness he displayed earlier his posture exuded confidence. Whether or not he truly felt confident or was just trained in the art of proper posture Aragorn couldn’t tell. His right hand moved gracefully across his page as he took notes, his pencil rarely lifting which told Aragorn he was most likely writing in cursive. Somehow that didn’t surprise him. His mouth was parted open in concentration as he listened to Mr. Bowman speak, his tongue poking out every so often to wet his bottom lip. Soon, Aragorn had blocked out everything and everyone around him. His attention solely devoted to the fascinatingly elegant boy in front of him. He familiarized himself with Legolas’s mannerisms, predicting when he’d tap his long, slim fingers on his desk, or tuck a fallen strand of pale hair behind his ear. He was utterly intrigued. There was a gentleness about him that Aragorn hadn’t observed in many other men. Given how studiously he was paying attention, he obviously cared about his education. Then there was his appearance. As an artist, Aragorn appreciated beauty in its many forms and, objectively speaking of course, Legolas was beautiful. The longer he watched, the more he wanted to know. And then, his observations ground to a sudden halt as Legolas looked up at him. At first, he was too startled to move, embarrassed by getting caught staring. But those brilliant blue eyes didn’t look scornful or irritated, instead they looked… expectant? It was then that his senses returned and he looked away only to find that the whole class staring at him expectantly. Had he really been that out of it? Damn his nefarious curiosity! 

“Aragorn?”

Aragorn turned to his teacher and cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“I asked you a question.”

_Oh. That explained the expectant gazes._

“I’m sorry, could you repeat it?”

 Mr. Bowman repeated his question – something about the character of Mr. Hyde being a representation of Victorian society fears - and Aragorn managed to articulate an acceptable answer. Sighing in relief, he made an effort to pay attention to the discussion. He looked at his notes with intentions of adding some more, but not before sparing one final glance at Legolas. Cautiously, he looked up and was stunned to see that the other boy was staring at him, his blue eyes twinkling in amusement. As their eyes met, the blond quickly peered back down at his notebook, a faint blush tinted his cheeks while the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. The sight caused Aragorn’s stomach to twist uncomfortably and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. And then he questioned why he had just experienced that reaction at all. Legolas had certainly piqued his interest. The only problem was he didn’t know what that meant. 

* * *

 

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Aragorn had every goal of leaving the room as quickly as possible. After the incident with Legolas, the room had suddenly gotten quite hot and it took every ounce of will power to concentrate on the lecture. But as he quickly worked to gather his belongings, Eomer got up and made his way over to the new blond. Aragorn paused as his friend held out his hand to Legolas.

“Eomer,” he introduced, flashing his best smile.

“Legolas,” the other replied as he smiled and shook the offered hand.

“Nice to meet you, Legolas. Do you know where all of your classes are? I could show you around if you like?”

To his left, Boromir rolled his eyes.

“That’d be great actually,” came the surprisingly cool, methodic response, “Thank you.”

“Awesome!” Eomer said before turning to Boromir and Aragorn with a wink, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Aragorn watched forlornly as the pair exited the room, telling himself that he absolutely was _not_ jealous. He knew his friend well enough to know that his intentions were less than pure and he hated the thought of Legolas getting played. He seemed so…innocent? Genuine, perhaps?

“Prick,” Boromir declared, “Never has trouble ditching us for a pretty face, now, does he?”

“Let’s hope Legolas lets him down easy,” Aragorn answered, adjusting the bag on his shoulder.

“What makes you think he will?”

“Not sure, but Eomer doesn’t seem to be his type,” Aragorn countered as the two headed down the hall and to their next class.

“I suppose you may be right,” Boromir conceded, “Though I don’t blame Eomer for trying.”

Aragorn chose not to grace that comment with a reply. His thoughts were all confused when it came to Legolas and he didn’t want Boromir to know that.

The duo walked the rest of the way to their geometry class in silence, saying a quick “hi” to friends and acquaintances they passed along the way. As they shuffled into the room, they headed towards their usual seats behind Gimli and his younger cousin Kili. The red-head turned to face them as they settled into their desks but the burnet stared ahead at some unseen point in the distance, his chin was propped in his palm, elbow on the table, and he wore a goofy, lopsided grin.

“What’s the matter with him?” Boromir asked.

Gimli sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Some new chick in our health class,” he replied in annoyance, “He’s head over heels.”

“Her name is _Tauriel_ ,” Kili interjected, seemingly drawn out of his daze, “And she has this beautiful flowing red hair, and these bright green eyes and her smile! Just wow…”

After a moment of silence, the other three burst out laughing and Kili glared.

“Not you too, kid!” Boromir said.

“What do you mean?”

“We have a new student in our English class,” Boromir explained, “Eomer’s already made a move.”

Gimli shook his head, “Why can’t he learn to keep it in his pants?”

“Well unlike Eomer,” Kili began, “I’m not after some conquest or one-night-stand. I want to woo Tauriel. Date her properly.”

Gimli laughed again before smacking his cousin lightly on the head.

“I can’t wait until your uncle hears about this.”

“I hadn’t exactly planned on telling him,” Kili warned.

“Fine. I won’t say a word,” Gimli conceded, holding up his hands in submission.

“Good.”

The conversation ended as their teacher walked into the room. He didn’t even greet his students, as per usual, before picking up his chalk and scribbling formulas on the board. This time around, Aragorn found it easier to focus…since there wasn’t a certain blond there to distract him.

* * *

 

Aragorn was thankful when the school day finally came to an end. He slung his bag unceremoniously into the backseat of his car and sped out of the parking lot, anxious to be home where it was calm and quiet and he could sort out his thoughts and do his work.  The rest of the morning had passed by without incident and Aragorn had nearly forgotten about Legolas. Nearly. But as lunch time rolled around, the new student had once again become the topic of conversation. Boromir and Aragorn were sitting at a booth in the cafeteria, discussing their upcoming track meet when Eomer joined them. Aragorn was equal parts relieved and disappointed to see that his friend was alone. Disappointed because he wouldn’t have minded seeing Legolas again, and maybe actually talk to him, but relieved because he was away from Eomer. Although, the cocky smirk Eomer sported hadn’t exactly been encouraging and indeed it wasn’t. He bragged about how Legolas was warming up to him and even accepted an invitation to Eomer’s soccer match on Friday. Aragorn’s heart plummeted at the news, but then he had scolded himself for becoming so bothered. He didn’t have a right to be jealous – he didn’t even know the guy! Still, the knowledge had haunted him for the rest of the day and he was looking forward to crashing on his couch, as far away from Eomer – and Legolas – as possible.

Once at home, Aragorn did what he liked to do best – get lost in a book. Two hours had passed by unnoticed and he was startled back into reality and away from the fictional world of _The Name of the Wind_ by his cell phone ringing. Marking his page, he tossed the book aside and grabbed the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, son. What are you up to?”

Aragorn smiled at the sound of his father’s serene voice, realizing that he hadn’t spoken to the man all day.

“Just doing some reading,” he replied, “Trying to relax…”

“Everything alright?” Elrond asked, ever diligent in detecting the various moods of his children.

“Yeah, just…tough day at school is all. I’ll manage.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. More interested as to why you called. You need something?”

Elrond sighed heavily.

“I was calling to ask you to pick up Arwen from her ballet class. I had planned to but it looks like I’ll be at the hospital for at least a couple more hours.”

“No problem. What time is her class over?”

“It ends in thirty minutes. If you leave now, you’ll make it on time.”

“Alright then,” Aragorn said as he hopped off the couch and slipped on his shoes.

“Be careful,” Elrond plead, “I’ll see you both tonight.”

“Alright, dad. See ya.”

Cramming his phone in his pocket, Aragorn grabbed his keys off of the hall table and headed out the door.

* * *

 

As he pulled up outside of Lindir’s School of Dance, he glanced at the time on his dash. _5:50pm_. Being ten minutes early, he decided to wait for his sister inside, perhaps catch the last parts of whatever dance they were working on. Though not particularly interested in it himself, Aragorn didn’t mind watching ballet. After all, dance is art.

Walking inside the studio, he was surprised to see all the girls sitting on the polished floor, intently watching a lone figure that glided about the room. Aragorn wondered if this was the new instructor Arwen was musing about earlier. Directing his attention to the new dancer as well, Aragorn became mesmerized. The music playing was soft and slow, there were words to the song, but they were in some language he didn’t understand. The dancer’s movements matched the pace of the song- a series of small turns and slow extension of the arms. And then the music shifted – suddenly becoming fast and loud, but the dancer didn’t miss a beat. He effortlessly jumped into the air, his legs creating a straight horizontal line. Upon landing, he transitioned into a succession of grande pirouettes.

Aragorn admired the toned arms and legs that created a beautiful pattern of lines and angles as he flitted about the studio. The dancer had on black ballet flats and black tights that defined his figure quite nicely. He wore a grey muscle tank, the arm holes gaping so that every time he spun, Aragorn caught a glimpse of his ribs and abs. His blond hair was gathered in a slouchy bun near the top of his head, stray pieces flying every which way as he turned and bent and jumped. Aragorn’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the familiar looking pale hair. He shook his head – he was pathetic! Could he not get through this day without his thoughts turning to Legolas? Still, Aragorn began paying closer attention to the dancer’s face. From his distance, and from the dancer’s jerky movements, he couldn’t clearly see his features. As the music ended abruptly, the dancer fell to the floor, twirling once to land on one knee and throwing both arms up. The girls broke out in applause, clearly impressed by their new teacher, and Aragorn couldn’t help but clap as well. Hearing the extra applause, the dancer turned toward the sound, locking eyes with Aragorn. Aragorn’s legs felt week and his mouth became suddenly dry. _It couldn’t be_. The beautiful dancer staring back at him was none other than Legolas. _Damn_.


	2. Tensions Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when I thought I'd get this chapter posted in a timely manner - boom - finals week happened and I had 5 papers to write! Ugh! Sorry for the delay, but I did make all As on those papers!! Anywho, here's the new chapter! I was very thrilled with the response I got from the first chapter and I hope you all continue to stick around! My song for this chapter is "I Really Like You" by Carly Rae Jepsen - don't judge.

_Aragorn’s legs felt weak and his mouth became suddenly dry. ‘It couldn’t be’. The beautiful dancer staring back at him was none other than Legolas. Damn._

* * *

 

Legolas stared back at him in shock, chest heaving in the aftermath of his performance. He was obviously as surprised to see Aragorn as Aragorn had been to see him. After an awkward moment of maintaining eye contact, Aragorn offered a quick smile and a slight wave. That seemed to break whatever trance Legolas had found himself in and he rose to his feet, casting the burnet an uncomfortable glance before he turned to the girls. It was then that Aragorn realized how bad this whole situation must look. First, he had practically stared at the guy all through class and now he shows up at his dance studio and creepily watches from the sidelines. He groaned. Legolas probably thought he was a stalker or something. In the art of making bad first impressions, this had to take the cake. Luckily, Legolas’s clear coquettish voice broke through his mounting anxiety.

“Alright, ladies. You all did great work today. I am highly impressed and I look forward to dancing with you and getting to know you better. And thanks for making me feel welcome. It means a lot. So, yeah. Class dismissed and I’ll see you on Friday.”

Aragorn watched the girls get up, rolling his eyes as they blushed and whispered to each other as they passed Legolas and moved over towards the benches to collect their stuff. He figured he’d better go explain himself to Legolas, otherwise tomorrow’s class would be extremely uncomfortable. Sighing, he wiped his slightly sweaty palms on the sides of his jeans and sauntered towards the dance floor. He briefly caught Arwen’s eye and she furrowed her brows in puzzlement when she saw where he was headed. Legolas had noticed his approach as well and lingered on the spot, rubbing the back of his neck in a self-conscious manner while bouncing on the balls of his feet. Aragorn cursed himself for thinking the behavior was adorable.

“Aragorn, right?” the blond asked as he drew near.

Aragorn delighted in the way that soft, lyrical voice pronounced his name.

“Yeah. You remembered!” he responded, chiding himself for sounding too eager yet being strangely satisfied that despite never having been properly introduced, Legolas knew who he was. _Of course he knows who you are! You made a fool of yourself during class._

Nevertheless, Legolas laughed lightly at the other’s pleased tone, all hints of discomfort seemingly gone, “Well, I’ve been told my memory is almost as good as my dancing,” he said coyly, offering a shy smile.

 All of his tension melted at the sight of that smile. Obviously Legolas wasn’t as repulsed by him as he had feared he would be. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“Based on what I’ve just seen, I’m inclined to doubt that.”

 Once again the two found themselves simply staring at each other; both embarrassed but too entranced to look away. Aragorn took in the wisps of hair that clung to the thin sheen of sweat on the blonde’s forehead. He struggled with the urge to reach up and brush the hairs aside. 

Finally, Legolas cleared his throat, “So, what brings you to the studio? You haven’t been following me have you?”

Aragorn would have panicked at the question if not for the teasing tone and the amused glint in the other’s eyes.

“Oh, god no! I, uh, came to pick up Arwen, actually,” he stammered, internally wincing at his lack of eloquence as he pointed out his sister.

“Oh,” Legolas replied, his tone and face suddenly becoming more flat and reserved as he glanced at Arwen then back down at his feet, “Is she…your girlfriend?”

“What? No!” Aragorn nearly shouted, perhaps a bit hastily, “No, she’s my sister,” he finished more calmly, wishing he had made that clear the first time.

“Ah, I see,” the blond understood, smile returning to his face, “She’s an excellent dancer. Seems like a nice person too.”

“She is,” Aragorn agreed, “When she’s not annoying the hell out of me.”

He hadn’t intended on saying that last part, or murmuring it rather, but it slipped out nonetheless.

Apparently it amused Legolas because his eyebrows rose and he let out a laugh.

 “Sisters tend to do that. Especially the younger ones,” he added conspiratorially.  

Before Aragorn could respond, said sister approached the pair, coming to stand beside her brother and glancing between the two guys. She’d managed to ditch the ballet flats for a pair of bejeweled flip-flops and threw a loose tee over her sleeveless blush-colored leotard.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two knew each other,” she said, flashing a smile that showed off a top row of dazzling white teeth.

“Yeah, Legolas and I have a class together,” Aragorn answered uneasily, shoving his hands in his pockets while Legolas nodded at the statement.

“Huh. What a fortunate coincidence,” Arwen replied, grinning up at Aragorn in a way that set off alarm bells in his head. _She was planning something. He just knew it._

“Indeed. Well, we best be getting home. I’ll see you tomorrow, Legolas.”

Truth was, Aragorn could have stayed and talked to Legolas for the rest of the afternoon, but not while his sister was hovering over them with that knowing look on her face.

The pair turned to leave but a voice gave them pause.

“Um, Aragorn? Could I talk to you for a second?”

Aragorn was both thrilled and worried by the request, giving the blond a confused look as the other nervously bit his lip and wrung his hands.

“Sure,” he answered before turning to his sister, “Go ahead to the car. I’ll be there shortly.”

“It was nice dancing with you, Legolas,” the girl said cheerfully, “Looking forward to Friday!”

“Thanks, Arwen. So am I.”

Giving one last smile, she headed out of the studio, both boys watching until she was gone.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Aragorn asked as casually as possible, trying to hide his mixed emotions.

Legolas rubbed the back of his neck again. _Must be a nervous habit_. _Wait, why was he nervous? Do I make him nervous?_

“I wanted to ask if you’d be so kind as to not bring this up at school?”

He peered up at the burnet, eyes shining with uncertainty.

Aragorn furrowed his brows. _This? What did he mean by **this**?_

“Bring what up exactly?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.

“Me being a dancer.”

For a moment he worried that Legolas didn’t want anyone knowing they’d met and talked outside of school. Relief washed over him as he realized that was not the case, but his moment of bliss ended when Legolas’s statement actually settled in and he once more grew confused.

“Ok, I can do that,” he promised.

Legolas searched his face for a moment and must have found what he was looking for because he gave a grateful smile and murmured a sincere “thank you.”

 “No problem,” Aragorn shrugged, “But why not? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’d just rather no one knew. At least not yet,” he answered, twisting a finger around a stray piece of hair at the base of his neck, “You know, being the ‘new kid’ and all I’d rather not be judged so soon.”

Aragorn sensed a story behind that explanation, but he didn’t press the issue.

“That’s understandable,” Aragorn replied, transfixed by the long piece of hair that twirled around and around the blonde’s dainty digit, “But you’re not worried about _me_ judging you?”

“No,” Legolas answered assuredly, smirking as he stopped twisting his hair and watched how Aragorn’s gaze finally met his own.  

“And why is that?” Aragorn asked.  

“Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now,” Legolas answered truthfully, “Plus, it must not bother you too much. You’re still talking to me after all.”

Aragorn smiled.

“In fact,” Legolas continued, taking a bold step towards the burnet, “I think you _like_ it.”

Aragorn froze, Legolas’s words and close proximity rendering him temporarily immobile. He stared wide-eyed at the blond, gaze briefly lowering to a pair moist, pink lips. Before he could further react, the other stepped back, giving him a knowing smile before turning on his heels.

“See you tomorrow, Aragorn,” he called over his shoulder as he strolled towards the studio office, purposefully exaggerating the sway of his hips.

_Dear God._

* * *

 

 

Aragorn sunk heavily into the seat of his car, letting out a long sigh. _Legolas knew._ Had he come on too strong? He certainly didn’t intend to! Hell, he wasn’t even certain about what he was feeling! What if Legolas started telling people that Aragorn liked him? No, he didn’t seem like the type of person who would do such a thing but then again, he knew next to nothing about this guy. But wait, did Legolas like him too? After all, _he_ was the one who got into Aragorn’s personal space. But what if he was just teasing him? What if he found Aragorn’s attraction amusing and was mocking him? _Shit. So much for trying to make tomorrow’s class less awkward._ Trying to clear his thoughts, Aragorn planted both hands on the steering wheel and finally turned to acknowledge his sister. He certainly didn’t like the smug smile she was currently sporting.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” she asked, clearly amused by the current state her brother was in.

Aragorn let out a huff and rolled his eyes. Distractedly, he put the car into drive and pulled out onto the street.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he countered.

“Then let me help you,” Arwen began, “Silky blonde hair, dreamy blue eyes, nice lithe body…”

“Ok, will you cut it out!?”

He was definitely not in the mood to endure her relentless teasing. Plus he really didn’t need a mental picture of Legolas while he was trying to drive…that wouldn’t bode well.

“So it’s true then,” she stated more so than asked, studiously observing her brother’s body language.

“What?”

“You _do_ like him,” she all but sung, watching as the blood drained from the knuckles that tightly clutched the wheel and settled in his cheeks, giving them a rosy hue. 

“I didn’t say that,” Aragorn argued, purposely keeping his eyes on the road and off of his sister so as not to give himself away.

“Well, he likes _you_ ,” she goaded, though she wouldn’t have if she could’ve anticipated the other’s reaction.

At those words, Aragorn jerked his head towards the dark-haired girl, mouth agape, and nearly ran a stop sign in the process. He slammed on the breaks at the last second and looked over at his sister who was clutching onto the dashboard.

“Jesus, Aragorn! Watch where you’re going!”

“What makes you say that?” Aragorn asked, completely ignoring her distress as he eyed her keenly.

“Because you nearly ran a stop sign!” she said incredulously.

“No, not that! What you said before. About Legolas liking me.”

With a hand on her chest in an effort to still her pounding heart, Arwen stared at her brother. His eyes were a swirl of desperation, fear, uncertainty and…hope? She couldn’t stop the laugh the swelled inside of her. Poor Aragorn was utterly clueless. No wonder he was still single.

“What are laughing at?” Aragorn growled, annoyed at the girl’s reaction. _Was she mocking him too?_

**_Beep beep!_ **

Aragorn cursed as he glanced through the rear-view mirror. He had forgotten they were still at a stop sign and now a couple of cars were waiting behind them. Slightly hurt by his still-laughing sister and confused and overwhelmed from his ordeal with Legolas, Aragorn cranked up the volume of the stereo with the hopes of drowning everything out. The sudden deafening music caused Arwen’s laughter to cease and looking at her obviously distraught brother, she felt a little guilty. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. She just found his obliviousness to Legolas’s attraction amusing and a tad bit adorable. Tentatively, she reached for the volume control and turned it down.

“Unless you plan on keeping quiet, I suggest you turn the music back up because I really don’t want to listen to you right now,” Aragorn warned.

“I’m sorry, Aragorn,” she answered seriously, “truly. It’s just you’d have to be a blind man to not notice that Legolas is into you.”

Aragorn shifted in his seat a bit as he glanced side-ways at his sister. _He was?_

“Is that so?”

“Mmhhmm,” Arwen assured, “First of all, he wasn’t the least bit shy until you came in. Secondly, he kept inching closer to you the longer you two talked and thirdly, I saw your whole private conversation through the window and he nearly jumped you at the end there.”

Aragorn’s face turned a deep crimson.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say.

“Oh?” Arwen asked perplexed, “You know, for an insanely intelligent guy, one would think you could tell when someone’s hitting on you!”

Aragorn groaned. He prided himself on his ability to read people as well as books, and looking back, all the signs were there! He chose not to read too much into them simply because he didn’t want to get his hopes up – he’d been hurt before. He reasoned that Legolas was probably just being nice or hell; he was new so perhaps he was just trying to make friends! But who was he kidding? His actions were _more_ than friendly. Even Arwen had seen it! So, he couldn’t deny the attraction any longer; nor did he want to. For the rest of the drive home, he basked in the knowledge that Legolas – beautiful, kind, dancing Legolas – hadn’t teased him, but _flirted_ with him.

* * *

 

The next morning found Aragorn doing something he very rarely did – taking his time to get ready. As 7:30 passed by with no disturbance from his sister, he knew that meant Elrond was home and he wouldn’t have to worry about fixing breakfast. Therefore, he had some time to spare. At least that was the excuse he told himself. He’d never admit that he wanted to spend extra time on his appearance in an attempt to impress Legolas. As he groggily opened his closet door, his eyes settled on a plain white tee and dark wash jeans – sans the holes. He stripped off his lounging shorts and threw on the outfit before heading to the bathroom. With a critical stare in the mirror, he decided he should probably trim up the scruff he’d let grow on his face. Using the upmost precision, he tidied the wild hairs into a clean cut and dabbed on some beard oil for good measure. He then wet a comb and gently ran it through his unruly waves until the kinks and frizz were gone. Once finished, he stepped back so he could see his whole self in the mirror. Smoothing out the front of his shirt, he gave a satisfied nod and then sprayed on some cologne as an afterthought.

As he made his way into the kitchen, he wasn’t aware of the smile on his face or the skip in his step. Spotting his father at the stove, he moved beside him and clapped the man on the back.

“Here, let me help with that!”

Aragorn began whistling as he took the skillet from Elrond. The older man raised an eyebrow at his son.

“Well, if you insist.”

Aragorn winked at his father as he turned back to the stove. Elrond shook his head fondly before grabbing his coffee off of the counter and sliding into the nook.

“You seem to be in a good mood this morning,” the elder noted as the younger flipped the sausage.

“Do I?” Aragorn asked innocently. This only made Elrond arch his brow higher.

“Yes, you do. Is there any reason why that may be?”

“Oh, I think I know the reason,” Arwen announced as she entered the room.

Elrond could have sworn he saw his son blush at his sister’s words.

“Alright you two,” Elrond began, “What’s going on?”

“Oh nothing,” Arwen smiled as she slid in across from her father, “Aragorn just has a crush on my new dance instructor. After, mind you, he warned me not to! I see the real reason now. He just wanted him for himself.”

“It was nothing like that!” Aragorn interjected as he set the table, “I was attracted to him _before_ I knew he was your instructor, thank you very much.”

“And who exactly might this instructor be?” Elrond asked, eyes darting back and forth between daughter and son.

“His name is Legolas,” Arwen answered, “Apparently Aragorn has a class with him. He’s super nice…and super attractive,” she added with a smirk at her brother.

Aragorn just ducked his head and focused on pouring his milk. Elrond and Arwen shared a look.

“I’m happy for you, son. If this Legolas is as nice and handsome as your sister says then I hope it works out.”

Aragorn tentatively met the eyes of his father.

“Thanks, dad. But don’t get too excited just yet. We’re not dating or anything. We’re in that awkward ‘I think I like you, do you like me too?’ stage.”

“Well in that case, there’s no need to rush things. Try being friends first and see how that goes,” Elrond suggested.

“That’s the plan.”

When Aragorn refused to say more, Elrond decided to change the subject.

“Believe it or not, I have the day off,” he said, “I can take you two to school if you’d like?”

“Thanks, but I can drive me and Arwen,” Aragorn replied, “I have a track meet after school so I’ll just drive myself home afterwards. You’ll need to pick Arwen up though.”

“Very well,” Elrond conceded, “Make sure you drink plenty of water, son. We wouldn’t want you passing out like last time.”

Elrond gave his son a meaningful stare, the latter of which smiled sheepishly in return. Arwen snickered, recalling how upset their father had been when Aragorn was taken to the ER for dehydration. As a doctor, their father was always preaching ways to stay in good health – he could not believe that his own son had failed to stay properly hydrated on a hot summer day while practicing for a sport that consisted solely of running.

“I know. I learned my lesson,” Aragorn griped, taking a long drink of his milk for emphasis.

“Good. Now hurry up, the both of you.”

* * *

 

As he walked down the hallway, Aragorn had to take several deep breaths in an effort to calm his racing heart. The anticipation of seeing Legolas again had his nerves on edge, though he was excited as much as he was nervous. Arwen had given him a little pep talk on the ride to school, telling him not to overthink what had happened at the studio and just go along with it. As reluctant as he was to be taking love advice from his younger sister of all people, her words did calm him. And to be quite honest, he was surprised at the wisdom of her advice. She told him that at this early stage, he should just have fun with flirting. She said he should make his interest obvious without being too forward and watch how Legolas reacted. If he responded in kind, then things would eventually fall into place. If not, then at least they could still be friends. However, Arwen reassured him that based on what she saw, the blond was very much interested in him, and that thought made his ego swell a bit.

The closer he got to his English class, the more confident he became. He steps were sure and he held his head high as he approached the classroom door.  Walking inside, his heart sunk slightly when he spotted Legolas in deep conversation with Eomer. _Eomer_. He’d practically forgotten that his friend had made his interest in Legolas pretty blatant the day before. However, he grew more hopeful as he looked closely at the blond. Legolas was focused on Eomer’s words, but the smile on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes, almost as if he was uncomfortable but didn’t want to be rude. He happened to glance up and notice Aragorn lingering in the doorway. Immediately, his tense smile became genuine as he swept an appreciative gaze over the brunet and he beckoned Aragorn to the empty seat beside him. Aragorn grinned back as he moved to take the seat, not failing to notice the question in Eomer’s eyes.

“Hey Legolas, hey Eomer. How’s it going?” he asked while removing his bag from his shoulder.

“Eomer was just giving me the details about his soccer game tomorrow night,” Legolas answered, “Are you going to be there too, Aragorn?”

As Aragorn settled in, he finally turned to face the blond as he asked that last question. He was totally unprepared for the hopeful gaze that met his own.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Why not? I haven’t gotten a chance to watch Eomer play this year.”

Aragorn looked away from Legolas to the man sitting behind him. Eomer looked confused at the seemingly familiarity between Aragorn and Legolas, if not a tad bit annoyed. Flashing his best smile, he decided to speak up.

“Awesome. It’s about time you made it to one of my games, Aragorn. What kind of shit friend are you?”

Aragorn couldn’t help but think that there was a double meaning to that last question. The two glared at each other, unaware of how uneasy Legolas was becoming in between them. The moment ended when Boromir walked in. He looked at his two friends sitting on either side of the new guy instead of their usual spots and lifted his hands in question.

“What the hell, guys?”

“Language, Mr. Hurin,” Mr. Bowman said as he brushed passed Boromir and moved towards the front of the room, “Please take a seat.”

Aragorn gestured to the desk behind him and Boromir took it.

“What’s going on?” Boromir whispered, catching the looks that Eomer was throwing at Aragorn.

“Nothing,” Aragorn dismissed his concern, offering a smile to Legolas before the group directed their attention to what their teacher was writing on the board.

* * *

 

“For tomorrow, I want you to read the last three chapters of the book. We’ll discuss those chapters and wrap up with overarching themes and techniques and then your first test will be on Monday. Class dismissed.”

Eomer was the first person to finish gathering his things. He stood up and leaned against Legolas’ desk as the blond was stuffing his notebook into his satchel.

“Would you like me to walk you to class again, Legolas?” he asked readily.

“Actually,” Legolas started, “I’ve had a schedule change, Eomer.”

He too stood and reached into his back pocket to pull out a wrinkled slip of paper.

“I now have Geometry in room 207.”

“That’s perfect,” Aragorn said, rising to his own feet, “Boromir and I have geometry. You can walk with us if you like?”

“That’d be great,” Legolas smiled as he looked between Aragorn and Boromir.

“Alright then,” Eomer said, trying hard to hide the disappointment in his voice, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Quickly, he brushed passed the trio and left the room. They stared after him, all aware of the tension that had grown between them. Boromir cleared his throat and started moving towards the door himself.

“Shall we?”

Aragorn turned to Legolas and motioned him to follow. Out in the hall, the three boys fell in stride beside one another with Aragorn in the middle and Boromir and Legolas on either side.

“So,” Legolas broke the silence, “You two seem close. Have you been friends long?”

Aragorn and Boromir looked at one another.

“Yeah, Boromir and I have known each other for what? Five years now?”

“Unfortunately,” the other teased.

Aragorn huffed and gave the sandy-haired boy a shove on the shoulder.

“You’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”

“More like _tolerated_ every minute of it,” Boromir answered, causing Legolas to snicker.

“What about you, Legolas?” Aragorn asked, “Any close friends where you come from?”

“Speaking of that,” Boromir interrupted, “Where are you from?”

“I’m from Eryn Lasgalen,” the blond answered, “And yes, I have a few close friends there. We grew up together actually. It was pretty tough to say goodbye to them but we plan on staying in touch.”

 “And hopefully you’ll make some good friends here too,” Aragorn supplied, catching the other’s eyes.

“Hopefully,” Legolas smiled.

* * *

 

As the three strolled into geometry class in heavy conversation, they were met with questioning stares from Gimli and Kili. Gimli looked the newcomer up and down before turning to Kili. Kili just shrugged and made to move his bag under his seat. Aragorn directed Legolas to a seat beside him and behind Kili, while Boromir sat next to Gimli.

“This is Legolas,” Aragorn introduced, “He’s the new guy we mentioned yesterday. Legolas, these are our friends Kili and Gimli.”

“Nice to meet you,” Legolas replied, meeting the curious stares of the brunette and red-head.

“You wouldn’t happen to be from Eryn Lasgalen would you?” Kili asked, turning completely around in his seat and facing Legolas.

“I am actually,” Legolas answered, “How did you know that?”

“The new girl in my health class is from there as well,” the brunet answered as Legolas tried to pinpoint his lilting accent.

“Don’t get him started,” Gimli groaned, “He’s head over hills for the girl!”

Kili punched his cousin in the shoulder, “Hold your tongue, would you?”

“You wouldn’t happened to know her would you?” Gimli asked as he rubbed his sore shoulder, “Her name’s Tauriel.”

Legolas stiffened, “Tauriel?”

“Yeah, you know her?”

“I do,” Legolas answered coolly, “She’s my sister.”

Four sets of eyes grew wide while Legolas’ narrowed at the brunet in front of him. The stillness was disturbed by Gimli’s roaring laughter.

“You’re in for it now!” he goaded his younger cousin, who turned in his seat and buried his head in his hands.

Boromir snickered behind his hand as he glanced at Legolas, watching as Aragorn placed a hand on the blonde’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry yourself too much,” Aragorn whispered, “Kili’s a good kid. He won’t do anything stupid…well, at least on purpose.”

Legolas looked down at the warm hand still on his shoulder, forgetting all about Kili for a moment as he met Aragorn’s grey eyes. They stared at each other before Legolas realized what Aragorn had said. Blushing, he looked away and resumed staring into the back of Kili’s head.

“For his sake, he better not,” Legolas replied, not liking the thought of anyone pursuing his sister.

Aragorn smiled as he finally drew his hand away from the slender shoulder, the feel of it lingering on his palm throughout the entire class.

* * *

 

When lunch time finally came around, Aragorn could not have been more pleased with how the day was going. Though he did his best not to show it at the time, he could have danced with joy when Legolas revealed they had geometry together. Sharing two classes instead of one meant he had the opportunity to spend more time with the blond. Though their conversations hadn’t gotten too deep, he did manage to learn where Legolas came from, that he had one sister and they both lived with their dad and that he hated geometry just as much Aragorn did. It also helped that his friends seemed to get along with Legolas as well. While he didn’t actively participate in it, Legolas did seem to enjoy the banter that took place within the group, Aragorn often caught him smiling at the others and holding back a laugh. Even the brief tiff with Kili was soon forgotten, the blond assuring the freshman that there were no hard feelings much to the latter’s relief. It made Aragorn happy to see that Legolas was settling in, perhaps soon he’d really open up.

 His thoughts drew to a halt as Eomer fell into the seat across from him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Aragorn bristled at his friend’s cold tone. Boromir paused mid-bite, his fork suspended in the air as he stared between Aragorn and Eomer.

“Excuse me?”

“What are you doing with Legolas?” Eomer clipped, “You two seemed awful friendly this morning. Did you meet up yesterday?”

“That’s none of your business,” Aragorn retorted, realizing after he said it how ambiguous it must have sounded. But he had promised Legolas he wouldn’t tell anyone about the dancing so what was he supposed to say?

Eomer’s eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline, “So you did see him yesterday? Or maybe you know him from somewhere else?”

Boromir turned to Aragorn, wanting to know the answer to that question even though he avoided asking it himself. He found it odd how well his friend and the new guy were getting along but decided to keep his mouth shut.

“It’s not like that, okay?” Aragorn said, stabbing angrily at the potatoes on his tray.

“Good. Then stay away from him,” Eomer said, crossing his arms and leaning back in the booth.

“What?” Aragorn asked exasperatedly before heaving a sigh and pushing his tray away, “Eomer, listen. I don’t really want to argue with you so just drop it. Legolas is a friend, he’s new. I’m trying to make the guy feel comfortable and whether you like it or not, he seems to enjoy my company. Also, you can’t tell me who I can or cannot be around so don’t even try.”

Eomer only smirked, “Friends, huh? I’ll remember that.”

 As quickly as he came, Eomer rose and stalked out of the cafeteria leaving two stunned friends in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Up next - Some more dancing, Aragorn and Legolas attend Eomer's soccer game, and some Legolas and Tauriel bonding :)

**Author's Note:**

> So far, so good?? This ended up being really expositional, but it was necessary! And don't worry, next up is some actual Aragorn/Legolas interaction! I apologize if douchey Eomer turns you off. He just seems like he'd be a jock to me! LOL! Reviews are appreciated!! I'll also take requests for other charcters in terms of personalities or who should be teachers and what they should teach! And also cute date ideas for Aralas! Thanks for reading! Feel free to follow me on Tumblr @ ringerpotteravengerhooker7


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